spoiled ink

k. s.

where the blood
of my bruises
tastes like wine

there’s aching in the roots of my gentle tongue’s cage
and i keep biting down but i just crave your call,
won’t you come in and play because
your bones make my joints feel softer
when you hold some of the weight

i miss you

when the snow falls i know your skin misses
the same spring as mine does and doesn’t
the same snow remind you of me?

(Source: venink)

  1. venink posted this